Held Slow
by swampbabies
Summary: A snapshot-esque retelling of Book Four, with an emphasis on Korra and Asami's relationship, as well as the effects of PTSD and self-imposed isolation.
1. Chapter 1

Quick author note: I wrote this for a couple of reasons: I know how difficult isolation (and the accompanying silence) can be and I've worked with veterans suffering from PTSD. I wanted to flesh both of those ideas out a bit more, but only within the context of Korra and Asami's relationship. It's far from as extreme as it could be, but at the very least, I want to acknowledge how much these things can change a person. I've already completed the second chapter, and will post it when I finish the third. If I've learned anything from past stories, it's that if I bite off more than I can chew, the reader will suffer for it. So, if at all possible, I'm going to finish the story by the time the second or third chapter is posted.

Anyways, this is un-beta'd. Lol, sorry. Hit me up with thoughts and corrections in the reviews.

* * *

Korra had underestimated the silence that accompanied true isolation. When she'd first set out, crossing miles of wilderness on foot, she became distinctly aware of how different it was from the silence she'd maintained in the South Pole. There, despite her desire to be left alone, she was surrounded by people. Had she chosen to speak, there would be someone to listen only a few feet away.

But in the desert, disconnected from all other people, Korra finally understood the true weight of silence. In some ways, it was comforting, especially since there was no one constantly asking her if she was okay. They knew the answer before they asked, and yet felt spurred to do so anyways. She never graced them with an answer.

But the inverse was the lack of presence and the inability to vocalize her own crushing self-doubt to a listening ear. There was a safety in the white noise of her parents' home, a comforting presence in the shuffling of feet and clattering of pans that allowed her to maintain her silent vigil. What's more, she had, on rare occasion, lashed out in her frustration. These moments had only occurred during her healing sessions, and were always followed by a sincere apology to Katara, but she couldn't deny the relief she felt in vocalizing her inner turmoil.

And so, when she first began her journey, the silence had crushed whatever hope she had left.

In response, or perhaps out of desperation, she'd shed her traditional Southern Water Tribe garb and cut her hair. She then turned to her pack, determined to throw away any remaining personal items - beyond the bare essentials - when her fingers clasped around a stack of envelopes. She paused her movements, willing her heart to slow and frustration to subside, and slowly removed them from her bag.

Asami's neat scrawl could still be made out across the front of the first envelope, despite the wear from being read repeatedly. Korra stared at the stack in her hand for a long moment before untying the twine that bound them and opening the first one.

Later, when she made camp, she stared up into the night sky and replayed the words in her head like a mantra. She was still afraid and unbearably lost, but the letters had grounded her. She remembered, for the briefest of moments, that she was a person, first and foremost, and that there were those who still had faith in her. Asami's refusal to give up, despite Korra's two-year silence, had finally gotten through to her.

Three months later, Korra hardly remembered what life was like before the silence.

* * *

Asami realized, with an exasperated sigh, that she'd been reading the same contract for nearly half an hour and still had no idea what it said. It was unlike her to be so unfocused, especially with the way she had thrown herself into her work for the last two years.

It had been two weeks since she'd greeted Tenzin and Mako on Air Temple Island in anticipation of Korra's arrival, only to find that she'd been missing for nearly six months.

At the time, she'd grown uncharacteristically frustrated with the entire situation, failing to understand how someone as important as Korra could simply 'disappear'. It was later, when Mako found her on the docks, that she calmed. Apparently, Lin had seemed unphased by Korra's absence, explaining that she'd seen many soldiers and police officers, all struggling with PTSD, wander or disappear. While this explained why she left, it wasn't an assurance that she was safe or that she would return.

The only thing that had kept her tethered after that was the fact that Korra was still sending letters to her family. They were all fabricated, of course, but they were signs that she was alive and well wherever she was.

Setting down her pen and resting her head in her hands, Asami attempted to calm her thoughts long enough to finish her work. Breathing deeply, she sat up straighter, stacked her papers neatly, and began reading the contract once more.

She'd barely gotten three words in, however, when her phone rang. Asami had instructed her secretary to hold all calls until she was finished, so it was with an arched eyebrow that she tentatively picked up the phone.

"Asami Sato speaking."

"Asami, it's Tenzin," he began, and before Asami could ask, he continued, "the kids found her."

There was a deafening silence that followed his words and Asami's mind felt like it had been wiped clean. Struggling to put a sentence together, she simply asked, "Korra?"

"Yes," Tenzin continued, "Somewhere in the swamps. They just intercepted Kuvira in Zaofu and they're heading back now. We expect them back this evening."

Another beat.

"Is she okay?"

"From what the kids say, she's in good health," he began, "although, from the reports coming in, it would seem her altercation with Kuvira went poorly." He paused a moment, as though contemplating how much he should divulge. "I think I'll let her share the rest."

Asami breathed deeply. "I understand."

"Do you want me to have her call you when she gets in?"

Asami almost said yes automatically, when a reminder on the edge of her desk gave her an idea.

"Actually, I'm having lunch with Mako tomorrow. If Korra's feeling up to it, we'd love to see her again. Otherwise, I'll let her reach out when she's ready."

"I'll be sure to relay your invitation when she gets in."

"Thank you for calling me, Tenzin."

"Of course," he replied, "I knew you'd want to be the first to know."

Asami blushed, thankful that Tenzin couldn't see her face. Her time on Air Temple Island these last three years had been far from sparse, and on more than one occasion, Pema had given her a look that simply said, _"I know."_

Much later, contract completely forgotten, she'd wonder if that time would be worth anything in the end. Banishing the thought, she decided it was selfish to want anything more than Korra, safe and whole.


	2. Chapter 2

Again, no beta. Also, when I submitted the document, some weird stuff happened (doubled paragraphs, formatting hell, etc), so if something's super funky, let me know, I guess. I'm sure I'll skim it again to be sure, but for now, here's the second chapter [with maybe a lot of errors, sorry, my b, etc].

* * *

_Lying in the healing tank, Korra closed her eyes and drifted as Katara's hands glowed gold across the surface of the water. As frustrated as she was with the slow progress of her recovery, she couldn't deny the relief she experienced with each healing session and eventually stopped fighting it's comforting embrace. _

_But her body was hardly the only part of her raging against her very existence; her mind always found ways of robbing her of the little relief she found in those quiet moments._

_A memory - the clanking of platinum chains and sharp throb in her head as air was ripped from her lungs - flashed through her mind and her body jerked forward. Although the terror she experienced with each flashback was still very real, a new feeling had begun to accompany it: shame. She felt small and childish, certain that no amount of physical healing would return her to who she was before._

_"Breathe, Korra," Katara murmured affectionately, "the danger has passed."_

_Korra grit her teeth. "I know," she hissed._

_"You don't," Katara replied, certainty lacing her words, "I know you don't. But that's okay."_

_"What do you mean you know I don't know?" Korra bit back._

"_I didn't know…" Katara began slowly._

"_I'm not you."_

_"...and Aang didn't either."_

_There was a pause as Korra's curiosity battled with her overwhelming frustration. Unwilling to relent, she replied, "Aang's gone. Whatever I shared with him was destroyed during Harmonic Convergence."_

"_Your soul was born from his," Katara continued patiently, "And no amount of destruction will ever undo that. As long as you live, a part of Aang continues on with you."_

_Silence fell over them as Korra fumed quietly in the tank and Katara continued the session. Eventually, when she could sense the tension in Korra's muscles ebbing, she spoke._

"_Did you know that he died during the Hundred Year War?"_

_Korra glanced up at Katara, arching an eyebrow. "You mean the time he was mortally wounded?"_

_Katara hummed, nodding her head. "Fatally wounded, in truth. The lightning bolt that hit him severed his seventh chakra while he was in the Avatar State and he fell. When I caught him, he was...dead."_

_When Korra had heard this story as a little girl, the White Lotus had skimmed these details and she'd grown up believing Aang had only been wounded by Azula's strike. Some part of her still doubted Katara's story, but she remained silent as she continued. _

"_I was able to heal him with water from the Spirit Oasis, but there was a moment where the Avatar Spirit ceased to exist entirely. After that, he didn't wake for several weeks and even then, it was some time before he could reconnect with his past lives."_

"_Why are you telling me this?"_

_Katara looked up from the healing tank and smiled at Korra. "Because Aang's experience was beyond traumatic and he relived it often. There were times when he couldn't sleep for fear of feeling the lightning bolt cut through his back again. Sometimes he experienced flashbacks during the day and unknowingly trigger the Avatar State. It was as though his mind believed he was still in danger. I, too, relived that day - and many others - long after they happened."_

_Korra felt her bottom lip quiver slightly as she looked down at her hands. _

"_Why?"_

"_Because not everything is measured in physical pain," Katara replied sadly, "Sometimes the damage is internal, and our spirits and minds must be allowed to heal, too. It's hard to do when we're angry at them for being hurt in the first place. Their injuries are no less real than your body's."_

"_But how?" Korra whimpered, "It seems so intangible."_

"_It's disorienting," Katara affirmed, "And it's not as straightforward as the healing we practice in the physical realm. It's often unique to each individual. That being said, I don't think your first step is so abstract; in fact, I think it's very straightforward."_

"_And what is that?"_

"_You have to stop beating yourself up," Katara began, "When you punish yourself for being wounded, it's like kicking someone when they're down. They will hurt - as all wounds do - but they will heal with time. When the memories come, your body will react; let it. But instead of punishing it for sorting through the chaos, breathe deeply and relax. Talk to someone - your parents, or myself - if you like. Take care of yourself, the same way you would your body."_

"_That's it?"_

"_No," Katara chuckled softly, "There's still so much we don't know about mental trauma. It's only been acknowledged in the last thirty years or so. But it's a start, Korra. In time, you'll know what closure looks like for you."_

"_That seems...hopeless," Korra murmured. _

"_Yes...but there was a time when you thought you'd never walk again," Katara gently reminded her. "And as hopeless as that seemed, I believe you walked to my house by yourself today, did you not?"_

_Korra's brow furrowed before she exhaled deeply, relaxing her face and body as she did._

"_I did," Korra replied._

* * *

The memory of that day in the healing tank was dear to Korra. When she first set out on her own, she would often fall back on it, repeating Katara's advice like a mantra. Along with Asami's letters, her words were the only thing that kept her feet moving forward.

There had been moments in those six months where Korra had been forced to seek out civilization and gather fresh supplies. More than a few times, a cry for help or the smell of smoke had reignited her old sense of duty and she'd attempted to aid those in need. The demon in chains, however, eyes bright with terror, had always intervened and Korra's attempts to help had been rendered useless. On more than one occasion, she'd made the situation worse, and the victims had paid for it.

And so, in her journey to free herself of her inner demons, she'd only managed to add to them. In those moments, Asami and Katara's words became a lifeline. Over time, they had helped to turn night terrors into mere restlessness and violent flashbacks into small spasms. The guilt still weighed heavily upon her shoulders and swung low in her gut, but she found it an easier burden to bear when she reflected on those who still had faith she could recover.

In the end, their faith, coupled with the timely intervention of spirits and a particularly bitter Beifong, had led her home.

She was ready to be reunited with her friends and loved ones.

In hindsight, however, Korra had known better than to expect her return would've gone smoothly. She'd barely said three sentences before she managed to anger both Asami and Mako. Perhaps it was the time she spent alone or maybe it was the three year absence, but Korra quickly realized that she didn't know how to communicate with the people she counted as her dearest friends. Before she could make any attempt to mend that chasm, however, Mako's charge - Prince Wu - had been kidnapped by Kuvira's sympathizers. Korra supposed she should be grateful; actions were far easier than words.

She'd bickered with Mako here and there along the way, but for the most part, Korra felt alive. Not only did the situation serve to pull the three of them together once more, but there was a comfortable flow that happened naturally between her and Asami. They'd worked in tandem, effortlessly predicting each other's movements and communicating nonverbally. The stutter in her chest she'd felt when reading Asami's letters had become a pounding sensation in her presence.

To Korra's great relief, the tension between the three friends eventually eased slightly and after rescuing Wu from the train, Asami had driven them back to her estate. After introducing Wu to Mako's family, they were escorted to the dining room for dinner. Now, despite all attempts to shake Wu and find a moment to recover from the day's communication failures and overwhelming noise, she was being propositioned once more.

"Why don't you sit by me, Avatar?"

"Actually," Korra began, "I think I'd better wash up before dinner. Thanks though."

With that, she slipped through a side door, completely undetected in the noise of Mako's family, and made her way outside. While she'd managed to calm the reactions to her memories, the day's events had made her realize that learning to be okay in silence was far easier than learning to walk tall above the noise.

xxx

Sitting at the far end of her extravagant dinner table, Asami smiled softly as Wu entertained Mako's family with a wildly dramatized retelling of the day's events. From her seat, she could see Grandma Yin listening with enraptured focus while Mako slouched in his chair, arms crossed, huffing at each inaccurate detail.

It was in the midst of Wu's flamboyant arm gestures and horrible imitations of their voices that Asami noticed that Korra was gone. For a brief moment, her absence didn't feel out of the ordinary. But the reality of her return was still settling in Asami's bones and with a quickening pulse, she excused herself from the table and set out to find her. She thought to check the bathroom when she passed a window facing her backyard. There, leaning against the porch's elegant railing, was Korra.

Slipping out the back door quietly, she moved to stand beside her.

"I don't know how you managed to escape Wu unnoticed," she began, hoping to lighten the tension that still permeated between them, "but I'm impressed."

Out of the corner of her eye, Asami saw Korra smile softly as she chuckled.

"Sorry," she began quietly, "I'm just not accustomed to...all of this just yet."

"Being back, you mean?"

Korra paused a moment, still looking out across the Sato grounds, before turning to face Asami fully.

"Kind of," she began slowly, "I guess it's weird interacting with people again. The noise is...a lot."

Asami turned to face Korra as well, as they both leaned against the railing. She knew it would be easier to keep the mood light, but before she could stop herself, she asked, "Where were you, Korra?"

Korra looked down for a moment, her hands fidgeting, and she seemed to struggle with an answer.

"I'm sorry," Asami said quickly, "I shouldn't have -"

"No, no," Korra smiled, relaxing slightly, "You deserve an answer, I just haven't actually verbalized it yet. You would be the first."

Asami nodded numbly as her mind processed this revelation. Had she not told Tenzin yet? Surely he would have asked. And while her parents were probably relieved to hear that she was found, she imagined they'd want to know why Korra had lied to them for six months. The look on Korra's face, however, paused her inner dialogue.

"This is culture shock for you, isn't it?"

Korra's eyed her thoughtfully for a moment before nodding. "In a way, yeah. I don't think it matters, though. I lied to everyone and maybe even…" Korra paused before reaching out and timidly brushing her fingertips on Asami's arm. "I'm sorry. I should've written more and I shouldn't have lied to you."

"Korra," Asami began, but Korra continued.

"And as for what happened earlier - about your dad -"

"No," Asami interrupted, "Don't, Korra. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I know you were only looking out for me. I would've done the same if our roles were reversed. I just...I know it's selfish, but it's been a long three years."

Korra stared at Asami for a long moment. "I still have your letters, you know."

Asami blinked. "Really?"

"Yeah," Korra smiled tenderly, "To say it was quiet these last six months is an understatement. It got easier after a while, but at first, it was too much. They...helped. A lot. So, thank you."

"_Korra_," Asami breathed, "_Of course_." With that, she gathered the Avatar in her arms and embraced her tightly.

It lingered, perhaps longer than either of them cared to admit, and Asami couldn't help but notice the faint blush on Korra's face or ignore the burning in her own.

"You don't have to tell me anything, Korra," Asami began, cutting through the emotional tension, "Take your time and if you want to share, I'll listen."

Korra sighed happily, causing something to flutter in Asami's chest. "You're not rushing me, Asami. I just think it would be easier if I showed you. Unfortunately, the item in question is on the island right now, so it may have to wait until tomorrow."

"That's fine, Korra," Asami smiled, before arching an eyebrow. "Speaking of the island, how are you planning on getting home? I noticed you didn't have your glider staff."

"It's not that far of a walk," Korra replied, "plus, I imagine you and Mako are in for the night."

"Oh," Asami chuckled, "I don't live here anymore. Even if I did, I think I'd rather stay in my office than sleep in Wu's general vicinity."

Korra laughed, "I was wondering why he was propositioning me instead of you. Sounds like he's already tried and failed, huh?"

Asami rolled her eyes as they laughed. "Nonetheless," she began as they both calmed, "I'll be headed downtown and would be more than happy to drop you off."

"Well then, Miss Sato," Korra began, eyeing Wu through the window as he argued animatedly with Mako, "let's get out of here."

* * *

Asami sat gracefully on Korra's bed and scanned the room. Korra was currently tracking down her rucksack ("_Pema said she wanted to burn my belongings...something about a 'swamp stench'. I really hope she wasn't serious."), _which gave Asami some time to remember the last time she'd been in her room. Although she probably wouldn't admit it to Korra, it hadn't been three years ago. Instead, Asami had occasionally visited the island to get a more detailed update on Korra's health. She recalled one night in particular when Pema had come to check in on her.

"_Asami, dear," Pema began as she slid her door open, "Do you need fresh sheets? I'm not sure we've changed those since you were last here."_

_Asami smiled warmly and stood from her seat at the window to retrieve the sheets from Pema's arms. "Thank you, Pema. I can change them."_

"_Of course," Pema smiled, "Let me know if you need anything else."_

_With that, she turned to leave as Asami made her way towards the bed. The sound of Pema's retreating footsteps paused near the doorway, however, and she heard her speak again._

"_Asami," she began slowly, "Could I ask you a question?"_

_Asami was already pulling a fitted sheet from the bed when she asked and paused to look at her. "Of course, Pema; what is it?"_

_Pema studied her for a moment before re-entering the room and sliding the door closed behind her. Nearing the bed, she took a seat and patted the spot beside her. Asami did as instructed, suddenly fearful that she'd done something wrong. Perhaps she'd outstayed her welcome and Pema was there to tell her to move on._

"_Don't be nervous," Pema smiled affectionately, "I only closed the door because I don't know if it's any of my business to ask."_

_Asami felt her fear diminish, but she was still slightly confused by Pema's intent._

"_Your business to ask?"_

"_Well," Pema began, "I know it's been three years, but I feel like there was...something between you and Korra. I could be mistaken, of course."_

_Asami felt her pulse quicken at the implication._

"_I - we - that is," Asami stuttered. Biting her bottom lip, she searched for an answer. The truth, of course, was clear to her; she'd spent more than three years mentally acknowledging it, but she'd never said it aloud. Now, it seemed, her secret was out."_

_In the end, all that Asami managed to get out was, "She doesn't know."_

_Pema's face was blank for a moment before she pulled Asami into a hug. "Oh sweetie," she murmured. Without warning, Asami felt a sob catch in her throat as her eyes burned. She couldn't remember the last time someone had held her like this; affectionately and free of obligation. In truth, she couldn't remember when she had last cried, either. When Korra was near death, Asami had held back her emotions for fear that they were selfish. Even after Su pulled the poison from her trembling body, she didn't cry; someone needed to be strong so that Korra could be weak. Since then, it had remained buried._

_As Asami cried into Pema's robes, she rubbed her back lovingly. "You know, Asami, I doubt Korra's oblivious. I simply think the timing of everything was working against you both."_

_Asami sniffed and pulled away, drying her eyes with her sleeve. "It's been three years, though," Asami replied quietly, voice rough from crying, "and I don't want to ruin our friendship."_

"_I don't think it would ruin your friendship, Asami," Pema began, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Korra's feelings for you were just as apparent to me as yours were for her."_

_Asami smiled at her uncertainly. She wanted to believe Pema was right; she had, after all, correctly predicted Asami's feelings. But in many ways, Asami felt as though she had been obvious in her affections; perhaps to a fault. Korra, on the other hand, had been a dear friend to her, and it was hard for her to interpret her actions as anything more than platonic. _

"_You know," Pema continued, "You're the only person she wrote to. In three years, she didn't send a single letter to anyone but you. I know it's been a long time, but I think there's something to that."_

_It came as no surprise to Asami that Pema knew about the letter; the White Lotus soldiers had passed it to Tenzin, who then hand delivered it to her at Future Industries. She would be lying to herself as well if she hadn't felt the flutter of hope that Korra's choice in confidants had meant something more than friendship. _

_Asami shook her head slightly, clearing the inner turmoil from her mind. While it was a relief to finally verbalize her feelings, she didn't enjoy the feeling of brokenness that accompanied it. She also valued composure and she was eager to regain her own. Wiping her face, she breathed deeply and leaned forward, hugging Pema once more._

"_Thank you, Pema," Asami mumbled into her shoulder._

_Smiling, Pema patted her back and replied, "Of course, dear."_

The sound of feet padding down the hallway roused Asami from her memories and she inhaled sharply, willing herself to calm down for whatever Korra wanted to show her.

Sliding the door open, Korra stepped in quietly, shouldering a rucksack that looked as though it'd seen better days. Settling down on the bed beside Asami, Korra set the bag on her knees and rummaged through it. Within a few moments, she procured the item in question, lifting it out of the bag as she dropped it to the floor. Asami stared at it a moment; at first glance, it looked like a simple clay sphere. But then Korra ran her index finger along its circumference, cutting through the surface as she went. Eventually, she slid the two halves apart and handed Asami the bottom piece.

Taking it in her hands, Asami looked inside and gasped. Sitting at the bottom was a small pool of the metallic poison that Su had removed from Korra's body some three years ago.

"Korra," Asami began, the heat of tears stinging her eyes, "Was this inside you? Still?"

Korra nodded before gently grasping the hand that was holding the bottom half of the sphere and using the other to close the two halves together once more.

"I'd been having...visions," Korra began slowly, "I was on my way back to Republic City when I saw _it _again. It felt like I was...haunting myself, I guess. I kept reliving the chains and the blood and..." Korra broke off, clearly struggling.

Taking the clay sphere from her hands, Asami placed it behind them on the bed and pulled Korra into an embrace. One hand gripped her back as the other weaved its way into her hair while Korra's arms wound tightly around her middle.

"I needed to find myself," Korra mumbled into Asami's shoulder, "I needed to be totally and completely alone."

Asami nodded, only holding her tightly as she tried to get a hold of her emotions. Eventually she pulled back and let Korra continue.

"I still don't feel whole," Korra sighed, "Not yet. But after I removed the poison, the visions seemed to stop and I was able to enter the Avatar state again."

"There's no rush, Korra," Asami replied quietly, "There never was."

"I know," Korra sighed, slouching into herself.

"You know that when I say that, I'm not trying to coddle you, right?"

Korra looked up and chuckled. "If it were anyone else, it would feel like that. But I think you understand the desire to be moving forward; to be doing something. I know that healing takes time, but being idle is just….hard."

Asami nodded sagely. After her father was convicted, Asami was more than happy to take over the business. Working helped to take her mind off of everything and keep her from wallowing. Even later, when Korra left, Asami was happy to be endlessly productive. She couldn't imagine what it would have been like if her body had made work impossible; she might've succumbed to the darkness that threatened her mind at every turn.

"Whatever you need to do in order to be whole again, Korra," Asami began, "I'm with you."

Korra smiled tenderly, "I know."

A brief silence fell over them before the sounds of shouting could be heard from the other end of the Temple. By the sound of it, 'Meelo the Man' was not taking kindly to his curfew.

"Speaking of Meelo," Korra began and they both laughed, "He may have mentioned something to me on our way back to Republic City."

Asami felt her gut twist. "Oh?" she asked as nonchalantly as possible.

"He said you stayed at the island sometimes," Korra began, "And I hadn't even thought to mention it until now."

"Does that…" Asami started slowly, "does that bother you?"

Korra blinked before she waved her hands nervously, "No! I mean, _no_; not at all! I only brought it up because I was going to say you could stay here tonight...if you wanted. I know I've kept you out kinda late."

Asami let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding and laughed softly. "I'd love to, Korra. I'll need to get my old cot back from Pema; the temple's pretty packed these days. Yours was the only room they left vacant."

"Oh," she murmured, "that's...oh."

Asami laughed again, causing the tightness in Korra's chest to ease pleasantly. "One of these days, you won't be so surprised by how much we all love you, Korra." With that, she made her way out of the room.

The next morning, while Korra meditated outside, Asami got dressed for work. As she folded up her old cot, her boot snagged on something.

_Korra's rucksack_, she thought as she reached down to retrieve it from the floor. Before her hand closed around the straps, however, she saw the corner of an envelope protruding from one of the pockets. Brushing the fabric aside slightly, she saw that it was a _stack_ of envelopes, gently secured with twine, and wrinkled from use. She also noticed her own handwriting neatly penned on the front.

Wherever Korra had wandered while finding herself, it was clear she'd taken little with her. She'd stripped herself of personal belongings and identifying clothing. She'd even cut her hair.

But, for whatever reason, she'd carried Asami's letters with her throughout it all.

A quiet thought bubbled forth as she stood upright, gently laying the bag on Korra's bed.

_Maybe Pema was right after all._


End file.
